


Heir to the Throne

by CeruleanNightHawk



Category: Death Note, Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Gen, Modern Royalty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5651752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeruleanNightHawk/pseuds/CeruleanNightHawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My father’s true identity has been shrouded in mystery since the beginning of our relationship. I have no idea where he comes from or where he plans on going. I don’t think anybody does, save His Highness’s royal advisor Watari. But it’s for the good of himself and everyone else here at the palace; that much I know.</p><p>The king’s mastery of the aloof disposition makes him seem impossible to read. Still, I could see just far enough past the veil to get the message without him even having to explain it. It’s why he made me a prince.</p><p>My name is Mail Jeevas, and I might just become L’s successor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> First fanfic on the Archive! Here goes nothing...
> 
> No, in all seriousness, I'm pretty proud of this work. I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you all have just as much fun reading it. It would help a lot to leave me a comment or two telling me what you liked, where I can improve, and maybe even what you'd like to see me write in the future. Relationships in this story will be pretty platonic for the most part, but I can write romance if I feel it enough... how well only God knows.
> 
> And I'll stop talking now. Enjoy!

It’s that time of our lives, at last. The prospect has been hanging over my head since the day I was taken off the street, but it’s only just now gaining relevance. And under the most horrifying circumstances imaginable.

For almost two years now, the kingdom of Kantolot has been terrorized and oppressed by black magic. A wicked sorcerer named Kira uncovered a long-lost enchanted relic called the Death Note. It’s an incredibly powerful murder weapon; all one needs to kill is a name and a face. He’s using it to cast his judgment on the people of the villages and high courts alike whom he feels are toxic to society. In his perfect world, genocide is the only way to bring about justice. Every soul in the land now cowers in fear of Kira, the god of darkness.

Except for my father, King Ryuzaki. From the day Kira first crawled out of the shadows, cursing innocents with cardiac arrest, he challenged the demon head-on. He uses his genius and isolation from the general public to his advantage and secretly works as the greatest detective in the realm. The people know this persona of his best as “L.” But there’s also Daneuve, and Eraldo Coil, and dozens of other aliases that I don’t care to list.

My father’s true identity has been shrouded in mystery since the beginning of our relationship. I have no idea where he comes from or where he plans on going. I don’t think anybody does, save His Highness’s royal advisor Watari. But it’s for the good of himself and everyone else here at the palace; that much I know.

The king’s mastery of the aloof disposition makes him seem impossible to read. Still, I could see just far enough past the veil to get the message without him even having to explain it. It’s why he made me a prince.

My name is Mail Jeevas, and I might just become L’s successor.

*

Five boys. All down on one knee before a perch of gold.

Whispering.

Churning.

Quivering.

I’m sure that the king could taste our apprehension. But he stared emotionlessly at our bowed heads with those big, black, ominous eyes.

“I hate to be discussing such dismal topics with children, but I’m afraid that it cannot be avoided.” He turned his head. “Watari, the scroll, please.”

I was having the flashback again. From the day we all left the orphanage. Me and my damned nostalgia.

But as I knelt there that day before the throne in between my four brothers, my best friends, I couldn’t seem to help it…

*

Wammy’s House was a privately owned estate nestled in a valley three towns removed. Imagine a cottage version of the palace of Versailles, surrounded by all of the most fertile farmland in the kingdom. That's where I lived, worked, and learned under the care of my adopter, Roger Ruvie. Training was rigorous to prepare the gifted students in his house for possibly succeeding the elusive L.

The Ryuzaki Dynasty always had very close ties to this estate. The two parties were constantly exchanging news. Rumors had started spreading that Daneuve was coming close to uncovering Kira’s identity. I found this quite interesting, almost hard to believe after so many years of zero progress. So did my chocoholic roommate Mihael Keehl.

“I get why this place is held in such high regard, but at the end of the day it’s little more than a peasant house.” He stuck his nose up, just a tiny bit. “What’s so special about us that His Highness and friends even care to check in?”

“I dunno,” I lazily replied while button-mashing my Gameboy. “For all I care, Roger could be a spy for the royal court.”

“Sure.” Mihael flipped his hair out of his face. “They just want to enslave our asses in the palace, I swear.”

Talk of the Kira case hung in the air for about a week before the man named Watari came to observe the orphans. He never said for what, or who the hell he even was. He just dropped in and had Roger cough up status report after status report. Still, the old man encouraged us all to act normal around the stranger.

_“He just wants to get to know you better, so show him your best selves!”_

Yeah, Roger was so nervous that he forgot who he was talking to. Nobody says that unless they’re desperate to impress. And the way he was pushing us to study harder than usual for the upcoming exams… it was too obvious. Any idiot could figure out that the new guy in town was somebody damn significant.

“So Watari really must be working for a king,” I half-heartedly concluded.

Mihael snorted. “Doesn’t he know we have better things to do around here than play princess pageant?” He took a big bite out of his chocolate bar. “I trained my whole life to be _L’s_ successor, not some stupid regal figurehead.”

“No, think about this, Mihael.” I stood up and propped myself against the wall. “He’s scouting us out for a reason, so what do you think it is? Maybe the king needs extra advisors? Bodyguards? Spies?”

“Court jesters?” Mihael rolled his eyes and leaned in close. “Just face it, dude. On this planet, nobody really cares about us except Roger. To everyone else we’re just IQ one-sixty-whatever-the-fuck. Pawns, not people…”

Oh, Mihael. Always strung high with emotions and paranoia. Which is no good if you’re trying to surpass L.

Anyway, a few days later, Watari learned that I was the third most talented orphan in Wammy’s House. So he kidnapped me.

_“Don’t worry,” he said._

_“It’ll be a quick chat,” he said._

_“The king wishes to see you,” he said._

Because that’s a normal request.

I crossed my forearms on the desk in front of me, leaning on them as I wondered why Watari chose this random empty office as our meeting place. “The king doesn’t even know I exist. How can he want to see me?”

“Oh, trust me. He does.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What is he, clairvoyant or something? Is _he_ Kira?”

“Oh dear, I’ve said too much!” Watari hurled a hearty laugh my way. “I like your skepticism, your open-mindedness. The king will be very pleased.”

“Again, who told him about me?” I had my arms out in front of me, as if waiting for Watari to place the answer in my palms.

Turns out he can be a spoon-feeder if he wants to. “Roger did.”

“Huh?? When?”

And he can flip that switch whenever the hell he feels like it.

“A long time ago, Mail. The point is, the king has made arrangements to house you in his palace. He has asked me to take care of the paperwork and release you from this orphanage.”

I lost my words for a moment. _He’s nuts, Mail. The man is so old he doesn’t even know what he’s saying._

“Sir… that’s really not a good idea…”

“Your eyes are telling me otherwise.” Watari smiled. “You’ll have forty-eight hours to pack your belongings before you and your new stepbrothers depart.”

“Brothers? Oh, God; who else are you dragging away?”

Well, Watari was also interested in Mihael, and his arch nemesis Nate River, and a creepy little bastard named Beyond Birthday. (Why? I don’t know.) The fifth boy was one I was surprised Watari even noticed. He lost his parents at such a young age that he couldn’t remember his own name, and it’s not on file anywhere, so everyone just calls him “A.” His new name starts with that letter, but he won’t tell anyone what it is. I’d say super-early childhood trauma just made him paranoid like that, but such an explanation only fits the last two years of his life.

Watari didn’t seem to care much, though, so there you have it: the five guys who never thought they’d become princes. _But they did._

Watari had us all fitted for suits (which Nate was the least happy about), and the next night, Roger stood at the front gate of the orphanage to wave us goodbye. Like it was all part of his brilliant plan…

*

“What if ‘the king’ is another alias?”

That was Nate half an hour into the ride. I was slowly nodding off until his voice woke me up. Mihael’s eyes, on the other hand, were wide open.

“Wait… You don’t mean…”

Nate twirled his snowy locks between his fingers. “Well, it’s a possibility. About seven percent.”

I sat forward in my seat. “Okay, let’s assume that you’re right for a second. Where the fuck are we going, then!?”

“Anywhere, really,” Nate calmly replied. “‘The palace’ could refer to any number of locations.”

“Great…”

Mihael clenched his fists. “Why so calm then, Mr. First Place, if there’s a ninety-three percent chance that we’re being abducted??”

Nate just laughed, as if enjoying the show that his closest rival was putting on. “There’s only a fifteen percent chance that Roger would happily send us off to malicious people. Therefore, our chances of good fortune are increased by nearly forty percent.”

The boy named A nodded silently in understanding. It was then that I realized I had no idea what his voice sounded like.

Beyond Birthday crossed his legs and put his hands behind his head. “So, then, if Watari spent a whole week observing us, picked us out from a crowd of fifty, and dressed us up to see _him…_ you know what that means.”

Nobody replied. But we all knew.

Beyond smirked playfully. “Who’s it gonna be?”

 _Damn,_ I thought. _Only God knows the answer to that question..._


	2. Chapter Two

The king was, and still is, one of the strangest men I’ve ever met.

Watari had the five of us line up in front of his throne in alphabetical order from left to right. A headed the line, followed by Beyond, then me, then Mihael, and finally Nate. His Highness had not yet entered the room, so we all knelt down and waited patiently for his entrance.

Five minutes later, a soaring fanfare sounded in the throne room, and two of the king’s bodyguards took their places at either side of his seat. One had a huge build and a threatening gaze, while the other was a bit smaller and donned a tidy afro. Both stood still as statues; I could hardly tell if they were even breathing.

Finally, the huge double doors at the front of the room swung open, and King Ryuzaki appeared before us… looking like he’d just rolled out of bed.

The man certainly didn’t dress the part of a monarch. He wore a white long sleeve t-shirt and a baggy pair of jeans, both ridden with wrinkles. His black, bushy hair stood out all over the place. The only things that clearly signified his wealth and power were the gold rings on his fingers, studded with colorful gems.

The king’s stride was a leisurely one. He wore no shoes or socks, and he was hunched over. There were also distinct dark circles under his eyes. Naturally; how do you not lose sleep when you live in the heart of Kira Nation?

God, that man reminded me of somebody. His appearance, his mannerisms… the resemblance was uncanny.

I was right in the middle of the red velvet path to the throne, so I was forced to slide out of the king’s way, bumping into Beyond in the process. A few double takes later and I realized that the two men looked practically identical. Like Siamese twins…

That wasn’t disturbing at all.

King Ryuzaki perched himself on the throne, bringing his knees up to his chin so that his feet didn’t touch the floor. “Greetings, children. Welcome to my palace.”

“Your Highness,” Nate started, “we wish to thank you for taking us into your wonderful home.”

“Thank you,” the rest of us chimed in.

“Oh, it’s my pleasure. I hope that—”

_“Who are you??”_

That was Mihael and his big mouth. I mentally prepared myself for someone to attack and throw him in the dungeon for that. Thankfully, it didn’t happen, but there was still a lot of shouting from the afro guard.

“Who gave you permission to speak out of turn??”

Mihael combed a hand through his hair. “Uh…”

“Do not speak in this room unless spoken to by His Highness,” the second guard deadpanned.

“Aizawa, Mogi, relax; he just got here.” Ryuzaki put his thumb to his lip and stared at the blond haired boy. “I am the seventy-third King of Kantolot, Rue Ryuzaki. That is what you shall call me.”

“Nice going, Mihael,” Nate muttered under his breath.

Ryuzaki shook his head. “Wrong. His name is Mello from now on.”

“Why?” the blonde protested.

“Well, for my purposes and your safety, all of you need aliases.” The king pointed to each of us in turn. “A is already taken care of. Beyond, you are now B; Mail, you are Matt; and Nate, you are Near.”

“Where did those names come from?” B wondered.

“Simple, really. They’re close enough to your real names that you’ll memorize them quickly, but they’re different enough to mask the connection between the two.”

“Wait, our safety??”

A’s entire body was quivering like a leaf. His eyes, too, were wild with panic. “B-but King Ryuzaki, we’re safe here within the palace walls, right!? I mean, it’s not like we’re going to go… chasing… Kira…”

Now his eyes were fixed on the king, who was grinning a little like a mad man. “So it appears you’ve figured out who I am.”

Nate started twirling his hair again. “I knew it.”

“World’s greatest detective…” I breathed.

“That is correct. Gentlemen, I am L.”

*

Mello sighed. “Well… _Near…_ you’ve done it again.”

“Moment of truth, people!” B rubbed his palms together, eyes alight with the fire of competition. We all knew it was there. Why… I had a few ideas, but I didn’t wanna think about them.

“L,” A whispered, “…what’s going to happen to you?”

He didn’t respond immediately. And here we are presently:

Five boys. All down on one knee before a perch of gold.

Whispering.

Churning.

Quivering…

“I hate to be discussing such dismal topics with children, but I’m afraid that it cannot be avoided.” He turned his head. “Watari, the scroll, please.”

Watari produced the parchment from inside his jacket, and Ryuzaki unrolled it with a weird sort of grace. I don’t think he was reading it so much as he was reciting it from memory.

“As I am sure you have already heard, my alter ego Daneuve has made remarkable progress with the Kira case. In fact, after all these years, I’ve found myself a prime suspect. I may or may not reveal his identity to you at a later time.

“Anyway, I am only forty percent certain of the suspect’s guilt. I have no proof of his powers or even of his existence. Therefore, the only way for me to get any definitive answers is through direct confrontation. It is almost inevitable that in order to solve this case I will have to face Kira in person.”

We were afraid he’d say that.

“He’s gone mad,” Mello growled. “You can’t win against dark magic with just your head!”

“No, you can’t,” I replied. “But he’s got a bigger plan.”

“Correct.” Ryuzaki continued reading. “I realize that in proceeding with this plan, I am making myself vulnerable to a wide host of unpredictable forces. Even with all the safeguards and precautions in the world, it is very likely that this case will bring about my end.”

…

God, I barely knew Ryuzaki, save the orphanage legends, and it hurt to hear him say that. Near, on the other hand, didn’t even flinch.

“In such a case, it would only make sense that I had chosen a successor to my throne. If all goes well, this decision shall be made in the next seven to fourteen days.” Ryuzaki closed the scroll. “That is all.”

The five of us rose to our feet and gave King Ryuzaki a bow before Watari escorted us out of the throne room.

*

“Now what?”

Mello had ordered chocolate before bed, and it was brought to him on a tray by a beautiful young maidservant. She said her name was Kiyomi and she thought Mello was a nice boy. I can’t wait until she really gets to know him…

As she left, I replied, “Sleep? Or in your case do the exact opposite and induce a sugar high?”

“I don’t get sugar highs.” He snapped the bar in half and took a loud bite out of it.

“Well, there’s nothing _to_ do, Mello, except go through the motions.” I sighed and stretched myself out on the floor. “There will be no impressing Ryuzaki. He’ll just scrutinize our every move until he finds a personality he likes.”

“What kind of bullshit is that?” he snapped. “Obviously he’s eyeing Near, Mr. Perfect Prodigy.”

“And so…”

Mello shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you?”

 _No,_ I wanted to snap at him, but I liked my face the way it was.

“I can’t just ‘go through the motions’ if I wanna win here. This is a game of calculated moves, playing all your best cards!” He was on his feet now, pacing around his bed. “ _I’m_ gonna be the one to beat Kira, not him!”

“Mello…” I put my hands up in front of me. “Is this the Kira case or the Olympics? Why does it matter who brings him down? I can die in peace as long as I know that lives were saved by the victory.”

Mello's eyes went up in flames. “We’ll never save _any_ lives with that attitude, Matt. And I can’t trust Near to make the right call on this one.”

“Okay… I need my Gameboy.”

I rose and left for my own bedroom. Mello must’ve been damn tired if he just uttered the words “can’t trust Near” all in one sentence. Or he was high on chocolate, whichever came first. Yes, the kid always wears a poker face and has a faint air of shadiness about him, but he wasn’t number one back at Wammy’s House for nothing.

Mello was just being Mello, I figured. I tucked myself into bed, feeling as though I were being swaddled by a cloud, and dreamt that taking the sugar away would quell his raging jealousy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Look out for more updates soon!


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again after a crazy week at school! Things have calmed down a bit, so now I can get back to the stuff I actually enjoy doing.
> 
> This chapter's a longer one, and the next couple will be the same since things actually start happening at this stage in the story. I'm excited, and I hope you are, too! Enjoy!! :)

Unlike at Wammy’s House, breakfast was an event at the Ryuzaki palace. The dining hall housed a long, polished wooden table set for fifty. At each place there was a large cushioned seat of blue velvet. Every other inch of the table that didn’t have a place setting was covered with every variety of cake and candy imaginable.

Yes, I said cake and candy. No fruit, no eggs, no meat—just sugar. That offset me a bit, but of course Mello didn’t care. There was a huge tray of fudge brownies sitting right in front of him, for God’s sake.

“Uh… why are we being served dessert?” A whispered in disgust.

“It’s what we serve at every meal.” Watari stood straight as a board at the head of the table. “The king insists that he functions best on a diet high in sucrose.”

“Are you sure?” I retorted.

“He’s the smartest man on Earth; who am I to question it?”

B arrived late to the meal that morning. (I bet he was busy nailing his voodoo dolls to the wall or something.) He apologized to the king and took his seat right next to him. I saw Mello’s eyes dart back and forth between the two young men, and I don’t think he could’ve helped himself in that moment.

“Seriously, who’s the mother?”

“Huh?”

“You and Ryuzaki look exactly the same,” he went on. “Any idiot can see that.”

“What—”                                   

“Magic? Coincidence?” Mello smirked. “Or are you family?”

“No! What the hell are you trying to imply??”

A small chuckle cut through B's panic.

“Come on, Mello. I bet you found L’s location once, stalked him until he moved, and spent the last year and a half copying his appearance.”

Near, the embodiment of apathy, absently played with his hair. I don’t think I’d ever seen B turn so red before.

“Please tell me that was a joke…”

“You know I don’t care for jokes, B.”

The rest of the meal was spent in relative silence, staring at the pastries and our hands and the ceiling. That afternoon, Ryuzaki gave us our first job.

*

“We will be visited by the House of Yotsuba this afternoon.”

The king was “reading” off another scroll as his five princes stood before the throne. “I am remarkably occupied with the Kira case today, so I want you all to lead the meeting in my place.”

“We’re not… negotiating anything with them, are we?” A stammered.

“No,” Ryuzaki responded, “just settling a dispute.”

Near let out a faint laugh. “Somebody was killed, I’m guessing?”

Ryuzaki smiled. “Multiple somebodies.”

B’s devilish eyes lit up. “Ooh, this should be interesting!”

Assignment One: solve a murder mystery. The king might as well have just asked me to mine for gold on Jupiter.

I turned to Mello, who looked ready for warfare, muscles tense and eyes on fire. “Dude,” I pleaded, “…don’t turn Near into one of those somebodies.”

*

The four councilmen arrived for tea and shit around two o’clock in the afternoon. The House of Yotsuba that they belonged to was an oligarchy governing a thriving first-world nation. Well, it _was_ thriving, but in recent years Yotsuba fell into debt and couldn’t stop tripping over itself. It was pretty bad.

In other news, it was common knowledge that the House of Yotsuba had eight chairs, not four. And on diplomatic missions, especially of this magnitude, the House always travels as a whole. The only reason for half of the councilmen failing to show up was that they all fell seriously ill at the same time or—

They were all dead.

_So that’s who the somebodies are… damn._

The triumphant survivors strode through the foyer as if this were their palace and not the king’s. Kyosuke Higuchi headed this band of peacocks, followed by Shingo Mido, Reiji Namikawa, and Masahiko Kida.

“Good afternoon, young gentlemen,” Higuchi sang. “Would any of you be kind enough to escort us to the king?”

“We’re not his butlers,” Mello deadpanned.

“He means,” Near started as he stepped forward, “that King Ryuzaki has a sudden emergency to attend to. We are to speak with the House of Yotsuba in his place.”

“He wants us to discuss the investigation with children??” Higuchi laughed out loud. “My, that one is strange.”

“And who might _you_ be?” Namikawa inquired.

B folded his arms and grinned crazily at the councilman. “We’re his princes!”

“Since when?”

“About eighteen hours ago, sir,” I chimed in.

Namikawa scowled. “The hell is this…”

“Right this way,” I invited our guests. “The actual servants will bring our tea to the Osaka Parlor.”

*

This parlor was one of the largest in Ryuzaki’s palace. It was a mini art museum, featuring exact replicas of dozens of famous paintings. At its center was a round marble table, big enough to fit ten chairs. Higuchi and company sat around one half of it, and L’s five princes occupied the other.

Mido and Kida headed the initial case presentation. They recounted from beginning to end, exhibit by exhibit, the gruesome scene from the evening of July 21st.

Councilmen Takahashi, Ooi, Hatori, and Shimura were murdered at 10:34 PM. The four of them, along with the survivors, were having a quiet gathering at the manor house of Namikawa. The assassins stormed the West Wing parlor in all-black clothing and ski masks. They killed half of the chairmen with fatal stabs to their chests and stomachs.

Higuchi ordered the rest of the panicked men to escape the room immediately. He pulled an alarm on the way out, and security guards in the surrounding wings rushed to the scene.

Early the next morning, Namikawa’s entire security detail was locked down by federal forces. With a lack of evidence to prove that anyone had broken in the night before, they concluded that the assassins had to have been skilled fighters who were already in the building. Traitors among their ranks.

“That’s the currently accepted theory, anyway,” Mido concluded, “that these traitors are part of a larger organization trying to take advantage of Yotsuba’s relative instability.”

Kida nodded. “But that’s not nearly enough for a conviction, so we came to Kantolot seeking the help of King Ryuzaki. We know he has connections with L.”

It took everything in my power not to smirk at those words. In the back of my mind, I wondered why the other two councilmen refrained from adding their insight.

“How much progress has been made investigating the security detail?”

“Investigators have narrowed the field to seven prime suspects,” Mido replied.

Near played with his hair two seats over from me, looking bored as all hell. “What about the suspects gave them reason to believe that they might be the assassins?”

Higuchi smiled patronizingly at the boy. “I think I’ll save those details for the real detective, dear.”

“I’m sorry, have I offended you with my question, Mr. Higuchi?”

A’s eyes were cast down to his left, at Namikawa’s lap. I could see his biceps tensing above the table, but that was about it.

“Higuchi, please,” he sighed. “The boys are here to help us.  Just tell them everything you know.”

Higuchi shut his eyes for a few moments before continuing.

“Seven suspects displayed significant levels of anxiety during questioning. They were known by others in the detail for their superior skills in combat. They have also admitted to discontentment with the House of Yotsuba in one way or another.”

“That’s it?”

Mello stared incredulously at the councilman across from him. “Sir, those are all weightless observations. By themselves, they literally mean nothing!”

Kida’s eyes almost popped out from behind his glasses. “I beg your pardon?”

“Where’s the hard evidence here? Any mental health issues? Signs of premeditation? Connections to terror organizations?” Mello turned to Kida. “Or do you not know of any?”

“Are you insulting my competence?”

“No,” Near interjected, “he is merely pointing out the flaws he sees in your investigative methods. He tends to get very passionate when he feels things are lacking.”

“Near—”

_“Mello…”_

One silent glare from Near, and for the first time in history Mello backed off at the command of someone younger than him.

B loudly cleared his throat. “Anyway, how many assassins were there to begin with?”

“Four,” Namikawa answered. “One for each of our fallen men.”

“So how will you go about narrowing the field of suspects?”

“We’re stuck!” Mido threw his arms up in defeat. “Whoever the traitors are, they wear the world’s greatest poker faces. It’s currently impossible to tell the honest from the pretenders on our own.”

“So we came to seek the assistance of L,” Higuchi spat. “Not his half-witted child proxies.”

“Say that again—!”

I had to physically pull my friend back so he didn’t jump over the table. “Mello!” I hissed at him.

“I don’t like that man. I really don’t like him…”

Mello half-whispered, half-growled his grievance, glaring fiercely at Councilman Higuchi. It put me on edge, because if there’s anything that never fails Mello, it’s his instincts.

Higuchi sighed and rubbed his temple. “Since when is it acceptable for princes to behave like wild dogs?”

Reluctantly, Mello eased back into his chair and straightened himself out. I passed him a few pieces of chocolate under the table, and he popped one into his mouth.

“Gentlemen,” Namikawa began, “I apologize for my partner’s restlessness. We’re all anxious to solve this case so that we can focus on restoring stability. Now, how may we establish a partnership with L?”

“King Ryuzaki could tell you,” I stated. “Right now, though, he’s responding to more urgent domestic matters.”

“But if you want to keep talking to us you’re more than welcome,” B chimed in.

“This is a waste of time.” Higuchi rose from his seat. “Everyone, I think it’s fair to say that we’ve been stood up.”

“At least stay for the tea, Mr. Higuchi,” A offered meekly. “Where is it…?”

“I deeply apologize, dear boy, but the four of us have more important business to attend to.”

I watched the other three councilmen follow Higuchi’s lead, and I shook my head. “Where the hell are you all in such a rush to be?”

Higuchi and company froze at the door.

“It’s been ten minutes,” I went on. “Please, have patience with us.”

Mido and Kida exchanged odd glances.

“Well, we did document a few noteworthy happenings involving the suspects.” Mido lifted up the smaller of his two bags. “We wanted to reserve the files for L’s eyes, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let you boys look, too.”

I might’ve imagined it, but I think I saw Namikawa bite the inside of his lip before sitting down again. Mido and Kida remained standing, and they presented an email exchange between officials who were considering two suspects for promotions. One of them was in fact given a new title one week earlier.

I took my goggles off my head and held each lens in one of my fists. “And a new title usually comes with a raise, right?”

“Exactly.” Near looked to the two presenters. “Do you have any records of the suspects’ incomes over the last six weeks or so?”

“Yes,” Mido said, “but nothing is out of the ordinary as far as their bank accounts are concerned.”

Kida spread the bank statements of the seven guards out on the table. Mello took each set of papers and glanced them over. He looked quizzically at them all and asked, “Where’s the rest of it?”

“What do you mean?” Kida prodded.

B looked over Mello’s shoulder at the ends of a couple reports. “He’s right; the statements end fourteen days ago.”

“Are you sure?”

B pointed at the last date on the log. “Absolutely.”

“You imbeciles!” Namikawa shouted. “We put you in charge of the evidence and it falls apart!”

“No, I swear to you,” Mido groveled, “every last scrap was accounted for right as we were leaving!”

“So you just stopped checking the accounts two weeks ago?” I insinuated.

Higuchi was about two inches away from a fit of rage at this point. “Kida,” he snarled, “what the hell kind of nonsense is this?”

“Don’t pin this all on the director,” Kida shot back. “Mido was responsible for organizing these portfolios.”

Namikawa’s biceps started tensing again. This time I could almost make out a vein. A noticed, too.

“You look frustrated, Mr. Namikawa.”

“I despise useless twits…”

Near yawned and rubbed one eye. “Hey Mello,” he uttered lazily, “what’s that other stack of blue sheets sticking out of the big green binder?”

The binder sat, conveniently untouched, near the bottom of Mido’s leather case. Mello pulled out the papers, which contained the final pages of the bank statements. “Whattaya know?” He smiled tiredly at the councilmen. “Fell in the wrong folder.”

It was almost too easy to spot the inconsistency in the statement of Walter Collins. “What’s this? Random fifty-thousand-dollar deposit?”

“And five days ahead of payday, at that,” Near added.

B laughed to himself. “Gee, if only I knew where all that cash came from…”

“There is no need for sarcasm,” Higuchi insisted. “We don’t hand out salaries like that to anyone in the security department.”

“And you missed that?” Mello cried. “‘Cause right now it sounds like this is news to you all.”

B leaned forward and stared the councilmen down. “Bullshit. All of you knew that was in the report but didn’t wanna show it to us.”

“It’s because one of _you_ wrote that check to the security guard,” I resolved. “Don’t lie.”

“My men run the Republic of Yotsuba with the utmost integrity,” Higuchi spat. “Preposterous accusations!”

Near twirled his hair and sighed. “With all due respect, Sir, your pupils are dilating.”

“Higuchi, calm down.”

Namikawa moved to put a hand on the councilman, but he swatted him away. “What are you talking about?” he yelled. “I’m completely calm. The _children_ are the crazy ones in this room!”

“Higuchi…?”

“ _Enough_ of this!”

A was the last person I expected to spring out of his seat and lose it.

“You’re all terrible at hiding your guilt!” He slammed his palms on table, eyes boring into the ringleader’s soul. “Higuchi… why did you kill them?”

_“I can tell you that story.”_

A jumped at the sound of the talking painting behind him and fell back into his seat. The councilmen sat dumbfounded, knowing all too well who the mysterious warped voice belonged to.

Mido was the only one who dared gasp his name.

“…L?”


End file.
